The Hopeless and the Highborn
by whatpassesformymind
Summary: Charlie Weasley's life appears to be going rather smoothly. But his love life is another matter entirely. Charlie's story, from first year onwards. Eventually to be Charlie/OC
1. Where Dwell the Brave At Heart

Title: The Hopeless and the Highborn

Chapter One: Where dwell the brave at heart

A/N: I'm attempting to write this for Black Rose Blue's 100K Pairing Stories Competition. Because apparently I'm crazy.

I stilled my shaking hands and pushed my trolley alongside Bill's. He was entering his third year of Hogwarts already, two years older than me – I was just a first year, currently with no house and no friends (Bill didn't count. We might be inseparable at home, but I had no illusions about this extending to Hogwarts, where he had his own friends in his own year.). I pushed through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. This part was familiar, as I'd come to see Bill off and pick him up 4 times a year. It was the twins first time though – previously Mum had made them stay with Dad, as they caused so much trouble. They were staring at the enormous red steam train that was the Hogwarts Express with expressions of awe, while no doubt plotting what they would do in five years time when it was their turn. For six year olds, they were rather devious. Percy had hold of their hands, to prevent them running onto the tracks or anything equally stupid. Mum gave them a suspicious look, before coming over to me, pulling a hankie out of her robes as she went.  
"Oh Charlie, you've got dirt on you again." She sighed and started rubbing at my face ineffectively. I submitted to her ministrations, purely because arguing the point had caused quite a scene in Bill's case. The dirt was generally imaginary, but Mum worried too much.  
After that time seemed to blur a little. One minute I was on the platform promising a crying Ron that I was coming home at Christmas, the next I was dragging my trunk onto the train and searching for an empty compartment. I finally found one and was struggling to raise my trunk onto the racks above the window when another pair of hands took the end and pushed it up. I turned to find a brown haired boy, a few inches taller than me and wearing rather more convincing Muggle clothes than most wizards managed.

"Hey, I'm Eric, Eric Hadwin" He held out his hand, and I shook it uncertainly.  
"Charlie Weasley. Nice to meet you." Mum had always drummed politeness into us when it came to meeting new people.  
"Mind if I sit here?" He asked, but before I had a chance to respond a purple haired girl and a blond boy had slid open the compartment door.  
"Can we join you? Everywhere else is taken. I'm Nymphadora Tonks, but don't call me Nymphadora. Or else. And this is... I'm sorry I still can't remember it all?" The girl spoke, looking between me and Eric.  
"Dylan Jacob Taylor Erevu. My parents couldn't decide so they kept their favourite names." He grimaced and flopped down in the seat next to me. Nymphadora made for a seat opposite, but tripped over her own feet and landed directly on Eric, causing him to fall into his seat.  
"Oh I'm so sorry! I'm stupidly clumsy." She picked herself up and apologised with the air of someone who had done this multiple times before, so the situation had lost all embarrassment. Eric however was slightly pink cheeked. She pulled a small mirror from her bag and examined herself critically. "Hmm, you know I'm not sure purples quite right for me..." She shut her eyes as if to concentrate, and her hair turned bubblegum pink. "Oh yes much better." She muttered to herself.

"You're a metamorphmagus?" Dylan asked, staring at her hair.  
"Yeah, comes in handy. Never had a haircut at any rate. Probably fortunate, Mum did my cousin's hair one year, looked like she'd been dragged through a bush backwards..." I excused myself as her and Dylan entered into an in depth conversation about metamorphic abilities and the such like, Eric eagerly asking questions – apparently he was Muggleborn. I headed to the bathroom, then wandered back. I wasn't paying much attention to where I was going, so it was my own fault when I walked into a petite blonde girl. Her papers flew everywhere and I bent down to retrieve them for her.  
"I'm sorry, I should have been looking where I was going." I stood and offered her the papers. She threw me a disgusted look.

"Yes. You should." I was a little taken aback by her rudeness, and continued on my way without another word.

When I opened the compartment door and slid back into my seat Dylan was teaching Eric wizards chess, with Nymphadora (I still didn't know what else to call her) attempting to help but by the looks of things was doing more damage. One of Dylan's bishops smashed into the remaining white knight rather viciously.

The food trolley arrived an hour or so in, with a reminder to change into our robes before we arrived. Eric stared like he'd never seen the sweets before – which he probably hadn't, in the Muggle world. I pulled tuna sandwiches out of my bag, and Nymphadora threw a chocolate frog at me. And when I say at me, I don't mean in my direction. I mean it hit me bang on the head.  
"Oh sorry!" I had a feeling her apologies might get quite common. She headed to the bathroom so we could change in relative privacy, and soon all four of us were sat in our black robes. Mine had been Bill's first pair, so were fraying around the hems a little, but they didn't look too bad. In a few hours time, the ties would change colour and the house crests would appear.  
"What are the houses then?" Eric asked. Dylan launched into a detailed explanation.  
"Well there are four houses, named after the four founders of Hogwarts school. Hufflepuffs are loyal and true, and will stick with you till the end. Ravenclaw are -"

"A bunch of nerds." Nymphadora cut him off. "Not that there's anything wrong with that!" She added hastily as Dylan glared at her.  
"As I was saying, Ravenclaws are intelligent and curious, while Gryffindor are brave and courageous. Slytherin are -"  
"A bunch of sly bastards." Nymphadora finished for him again. From the look on Dylan's face it was an unwelcome intrusion, but an accurate one.

They finally arrived at Hogsmeade Station, the first years clustering together on the platform, uncertain of where to go. The issue was soon cleared up as an enormous man carrying a lamp yelled

"First years over 'ere!" They followed him, some rather nervously, to a hidden lake, as the rest of the school got into horseless carriages. We were directed into little boats, three in each. At this point Nymphadora cheerfully waved to us and headed towards a small group of other girls, sliding seamlessly into their chatter. The giant man waved his umbrella and the boats glided across the inky black lake. I peered over the side, where the boats lights reflected and twinkled back at me.  
"My brother said there was a giant squid in there." I informed Dylan and Eric, who joined me staring over the side.  
"You'll get yer first view of the castle in just a moment." Hagrid called from up ahead. We immediately shot back up, searching the darkness for Hogwarts. The boats pushed through a leafy sheet and it came into view, blazing with light. It was enormous. Bill's and my parent's descriptions never did it justice. What seemed to be hundreds of towers, from the minuscule to the gigantic, grew out of the magnificent spread of courtyards and buildings. Bridges connected some, and stairs wound round the outsides of a few. They disembarked at a wooden pier and were lead up to the castle, across a small portion of the sprawling lawns that eventually gave way to the forbidden forest in the distance. A tall, thin and strict looking woman stood at the top of the steps.  
"Thank you Hagrid. Welcome to Hogwarts. Shortly you will be sorted into your house. While at Hogwarts, your house will be your family." She had a slight Scottish accent, and I assumed that this must be Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house. "Achievements will earn you points, while any rule breaking and you will lose them, or even – heavens forbid – be expelled. Now follow me in an orderly fashion!" She turned and made a slight pushing motion with her hands, causing the truly enormous front doors to swing inwards, then led us across a marble floored entrance hall to another set of doors, which also opened at her approach. The entire student population turned and stared as we marched past them to the platform at the top of the hall, in front of the staff table. The sorting hat was brought out, and sang of the four houses, then we were each called up to sit on the stool. A few people in I saw 'Celsus, Anais', the girl from the train, go into Slytherin. Dylan was the first Ravenclaw, Eric a Gryffindor. Nymphadora became a Hufflepuff. A few people later, it was my turn. I sat down and let the hat slide over my eyes. I could hear Bill with his friends, in the near silence of the hall.  
"That's my baby brother." His friends laughed.  
"Five galleons says he's a 'Puff." One offered, laughing even harder.  
"Your on. Weasley blood will out, Gryffindor." I nearly smiled. Bill was always a little protective of us, as the oldest. But then the worry redoubled it's attack. What if I wasn't a Gryffindor?

_Well well, another Weasley here already. Are there many more of you to come?_ A voice curled inside my head.

_Five more, really? Well anyway, better be..._

"Gryffindor!" It shouted. I made my way to join Eric at the cheering red and gold table. After the sorting, Professor Dumbledore stood and made a speech of some kind – I didn't think many people were listening. Food appeared, piled high on the plates. Me and Eric both grabbed anything in reach and started eating. Those tuna sandwiches seemed rather a while ago now, and the food here was delicious. We ate until we could eat no more, including a slice of apple pie and a creamy strawberry cheesecake for dessert, and then the plates were cleared and Dumbledore called for silence again.

"The prefects will show you to your dormitories and show you how to enter. Please do not forget this, the amount of mishaps with forgotten passwords was rather astonishing last year and I'm not sure I can cope with a repeat. Now, off to bed! Chop chop!" There was another burst of sound as benches were scraped back and we all stood, half asleep.

"Please follow me to the Gryffindor tower!" A prefect called. We trailed after her up staircase after staircase, until I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed. I was too tired to take anything more than a cursory glance at the moving stairs, and Eric fell into one of the trick steps halfway up. We eventually reached a portrait of a woman dressed all in pink, smiling down at us.  
"Password?" She asked.

"Tantum sperare." The prefect replied. In the common room the older years vanished, yawning. "The password changes every 2 weeks, please don't forget it, don't write it down. Girls dorms up the stairs on your left, boys, the same on your right." We climbed up what I fervently hoped was the last set of stairs, to find the first year dorms with our trunks left at the bottom of our beds. I pulled on pyjamas and crawled in between the covers, and was asleep within seconds.


	2. Swish and Flick

Title: The Hopeless and the Highborn

Chapter Two: Swish and Flick

I awoke to the sound of a prefect yelling instructions at us. Something about breakfast and timetables, that I promptly ignored. What seemed like seconds later, someone was poking me in the ribs and calling my name.  
"Charlie! WAKE UP! We have to be at breakfast in five minutes!" I opened my eyes a little, squinting against the bright sunlight, to see a rather panicky looking Eric standing over my bed. We were the last two remaining in our dorm. I rolled out of bed so fast that I fell onto the floor and pulled on the first pair of robes that came out of my case. We sprinted along the half remembered route from last night, miraculously managing not to get lost, and found seats at the Gryffindor table. Professor McGonagall was walking along the aisle, floating a stack of timetables in front of her and dropping them in front of students.

"Potions with Slytherin, followed by... double Charms, mixed houses." Eric read off his. Mine landed in front of me, and a quick comparison confirmed that me and Eric shared all the same lessons.

"Damn it. Snape favours the Slytherins like mad, loathes all the other houses." I stabbed a bit of sausage just as Nymphadora came over to join us.  
"Are you allowed over here?" Eric asked anxiously. She shrugged and sat down next to me.

"Who cares. And what's that poor sausage done to you?" The last part was clearly directed towards me, as the food looked a bit shredded now.

"We have Potions with Slytherin." I pushed my timetable in her direction. She whistled.

"Have fun with that. Rumour says that while he hates living things all year round, he's especially nasty on the first day. You don't want to be late for that!"  
"Oh joy. We'd better get going then, we need to get our books from the tower." I stood up, my plate clearing itself.  
"Not to mention, we have to find the classroom."  
I quickly realised that Eric was right. Hogwarts desperately needed to come with a map. We finally reached the classroom, gasping for breath, just as Snape swept in, slamming the door behind him. The only remaining seats were at the very front table. We hastily pulled out our textbooks.  
"This is Potions. There will be no foolish wand waving in this class. The art of Potion brewing is a precise and delicate one, and I highly doubt that many of you will succeed..." Snape paused, looking around. "However, those of you who meet the standard I require for NEWT level may find it a rewarding ability. This branch of magic can be used to ensnare the senses, bring glory, and even put a stopper in death." No-one dared to look away. It was a little like when Mum was in one of her foul moods: she was just waiting for someone to step out of line so she could explode. "Open your textbooks to page two, read the opening chapter on brewing skills and ingredient preparation. In silence. For homework, write two and a half feet of notes on this. Next lesson you will demonstrate these skills."

At break we went out into the Transfiguration Courtyard (the only place we could find our way to). Dylan was leaning against the wall, reading.

"Snape is evil. One hour in and he's already taken 10 points from Gryffindor and give 15 to Slytherin." I sat on a stone bench next to him.

"Sucks. I don't have him until Wednesday. Charms next though – you?" more timetable swapping took place.

Charms was certainly more interesting than Potions. Professor Flitwick was tiny, half my height. He also opened the lesson with a brief lecture on Charms, and a few examples – he used a colour changing charm to make the chalk on the board flash. The first hour was spent learning the theory and wand movements for the hover charm.

"Now class, I think it's time to make some objects fly!" Flitwick stood on a stack of books to see over his desk. "First, let me see the wand movement... Swish and flick!" I imitated his wand movement – doing better than the Hufflepuff boy across the room who nearly poked his neighbour's eye out.

Overall the lesson went quite successfully. Feathers flew, and occasionally shot across the room or burst into flames. It had taken me a few tries and quite a lot of concentration, but by the end my feather was floating around with the rest.  
Lunch was a rushed affair, as me and Eric had decided to head to the library and start the Potions essay. It was harder than it sounded to fill two and a half feet of parchment. A paragraph was only a few inches long, and we had to try not to copy each other or the book. Eric put down his quill and pulled out a ruler.  
"I can't believe it! I'm three bloody inches short." Dylan and Nymphadora joined us, Dylan reading over Eric's shoulder.

"You missed out how to crush ingredients correctly." He pointed out. We all stared at him. "What? I got bored and read the first bit of the textbook." Nymphadora shook her head in disbelief, and started writing her Charms essay – as her feather had exploded, Flitwick wanted six inches on the correct way to cast Wingardium Leviosa. Purple ink splattered the desk and us when her quill snapped suddenly, leaving us with five minutes to run to the dorm and clean up before a flying lesson with Hufflepuff. This, I wasn't worried about – I'd been allowed on a broom for the past year to play with Bill.

"Afternoon class." Madam Hooch greeted us, directing us to each stand by a broomstick. I saw a boy from my dorm eyeing his suspiciously.

"Now, hold your right hand over the broom and say up!" This met with varying degrees of success. The broom by me jumped into my hand neatly. Eric's rolled around a bit, but eventually made it into the air. Opposite us a Hufflepuff girl was holding the broom, looking shocked, and murmuring 'Nice broomstick...' to it every so often. We weren't allowed to do much for the rest of the lesson, just take off and land again a few times. There was one narrow escape where the girl opposite couldn't stop going up, but Madam Hooch got her down again.

After dinner we finally got around to meeting the other boys in our dorm. Dan was the slightly odd one, who had lived next door to Jared for all their lives. The final member of our dorm had already landed himself in detention with Filch by bringing mud in after flying, and was apparently amazing at Wizards Chess. We all sat around in the common room, watching the older years (some already buried in homework. I wasn't looking forward to NEWTs.), and wondering when Alex would be back from his detention. Jared introduced us to his twin sister Noa, also in Gryffindor. At curfew, Alex still wasn't back, so we headed up to the dorm. There wasn't much sleep that night – we were busy discussing the lessons we'd had.

"Herbology's just a load of practical stuff really, and Sprout is okay – she's head of Hufflepuff. Some of the plants in the other greenhouses look pretty vicious though..." The prefect from this morning stuck his head round the door.

"Settle down in here!" he hissed, forcing us to get into our beds and at least look asleep. At this point Alex came in and collapsed on his bed.  
"My arm will never be the same again," he groaned. "Filch had me cleaning ever trophy in the damned room..." The only response he got was Dan's sudden snoring.

The next day we had our first Transfiguration and Herbology lessons – complete with the usual 'this is the most important' lecture. Transfiguration was yet more theory work, slightly disappointing after McGonagall turned into a cat and transfigured the desk into a horse and back. Herbology was held in Greenhouse One, where we were given a quick tour and instructions on how to use basic pruning and re-potting techniques, which we had to put to use.  
The rest of the week was fairly similar. Astronomy on a Wednesday night at the top of a tower, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic with the dead boring Professor Binns, Hogwarts only ghost teacher. Friday evening found me, Dylan, Nymphadora and Eric in the library again, with stacks of homework to rival the NEWT years.

"We shouldn't have left it so long." Eric muttered gloomily, shooting his stack of parchment and books a nasty look. "Oh, Nym- Tonks!". She had spilled ink over the table again.

"Sorry, sorry!" she mopped it up with her sleeve. The rest of the evening was accident free, until she pulled out her wand to practice the swish and flick movement. Her elbow caught the ink bottle again, and as she swore at it her wand ignited the stack of clean parchment. Madam Pince hurried over, waving her wand.  
"Out, all of you! Honestly..." She ascertained that none of her books were harmed, then shuffled back to her desk. Anais and a group of Slytherins I recognised from Potions were doubled over laughing as we left, Nymphadora muttering under her breath.


	3. Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

Title: The Hopeless and the Highborn

Chapter Three: Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

I peered into the cauldron, examining the crushed snake fang mixture as Eric poked the fire underneath it.

"Stop! Ten seconds over." Dan called. We were working in threes today to brew our first actual potion. Snape hadn't thought it worth the ingredients before hand, so we had to practice chopping fake horned slugs and crushing transfigured snake fangs for weeks.

"What's the next step?" Eric asked as he pulled the cauldron off the flames. I glanced down at the book.  
"Wave your wand and leave for forty five minutes." I read. This really wasn't too complicated. Dan waved his wand in the air above it a bit.

"Think that did it?" At this point Snape decided to come check on us. He had been on the other side of the room for most of the lesson, stopping people blowing things up.

"Finished already Weasley?" he sneered at us.

"Yes sir." He looked over the cauldron and glared at us, angry to have missed a chance to give us detention – our potion was clearly fine. It was the correct shade of orangey-yellow shown in the book. A few other groups were finishing up, most as well as us, with one notable exception. A group of rather gormless looking Slytherins had a cauldron full of some black, sticky substance that was bubbling slowly and appeared to be trying to climb out onto the workbenches. Snape took one look at it and vanished the lot with a flick of his wand and started lecturing them on the importance of preparation.

"Oh he doesn't take points off of _them_ when they mess up, no his Slytherins are too precious for that." Dan muttered. Snape's blatant favouritism was a sore point with him, after losing fifteen points in one lesson because the gormless trio were flicking paper at him. Snape gave us five more minutes before calling attention to the front.

"Now, hopefully you are all timing your forty five minutes _precisely_, as leaving it even a few minutes longer could end in disaster. Don't think for a second however that I will let you slack off while you wait."

"Because that's likely with him." Dan whispered to us.

"Five points from Gryffindor May, everyone open your textbooks, look up the ingredients and their properties." Dan winced at his surname, and slammed the book open. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Anais passing something to another Slytherin. I flipped pages until I found the entry on snake fangs, just as a small round object flew across the room and landed straight in the middle of our cauldron with a small plop. It began to hiss and fizz ominously, and we all slid our chairs away. The entire class had noticed this, and were watching the cauldron like it was a bomb. Snape turned around.  
"What is going -" His sentence was cut short by the contents of the cauldron shooting straight up into the air. The liquid had turned a venomous green and was bouncing off the ceiling, raining down on us. It stung where it hit, causing small sections of skin to change colour until the class were spotted every colour of the rainbow. "OUT! Everyone out NOW!" Snape shouted above the shrieks of girls. They were among the first to the door, fighting to get out. When everyone was outside Snape emerged, holding a blackened and shrivelled object from our cauldron. He was furious. He ordered us back inside, informing us that we could go to the Hospital Wing in our own time to deal with our own problems. He resumed teaching as normal, and at the end of the lesson the other groups made their way up to the front to give him vials of their potions. We made to leave, hoping he might not blame us.

"Sit down May, Hadwin, Weasley. All three of you are to report to me tonight at six sharp for detention. You will not need any equipment. Then tomorrow, I am sure Mr. Filch would like to see you, same time, in dungeon number three, for possession of a banned Zonko's product. That is all." We headed down to lunch, subdued.

"We didn't even do it!" Eric burst out halfway there. Him and Dan started a heated discussion about how brutally unfair Snape was, and how obvious it was that we didn't do it – why would we plant it in our own cauldron anyway – which required nothing more from me than the occasional 'yeah' and 'that's right'. As we entered the hall and made our way towards the Gryffindor table Anais looked over at us and smirked, nudging her friends.

"She planted it." Eric and Dan looked at me as though I was insane. "Anais. I saw her give something to another Slytherin in Potions, and that's the direction the Zonko's thing came from..."

"Probably, dirty cheating Slytherins." Dan went off on another anti Slytherin rant, gesturing wildly and earning quite a bit of attention from the other Gryffindors. Even a few seventh years looked on, amused.

That evening we walked down to the dungeons together, wondering what Snape would have us do.  
"We're missing dinner." Eric pointed out miserably.  
"I bet Snape won't let us out in time to get food either." My stomach growled as if to underline the point.  
"We'll starve to death down here, and in the morning they will find our bones, and then they'll be sorry!" Dan added in his usual dramatic manner. This was a lot less funny when we were standing at the top of the steps down to the dungeons. The place looked a lot less welcoming than the rest of the castle, and I could certainly imagine a pile of bones down here.

"Take gloves and brushes from the side, there are twenty cauldrons here that need cleaning. No magic, and I want them spotless." Snape ordered as we entered the classroom, not even looking up from his marking. The cleaning was dull, and I was starting to have more sympathy for Alex's complaints after cleaning the trophies. My arms ached, and I was only on my third cauldron.

It took us nearly four hours to get them all clean to Snape's satisfaction. We collapsed into bed, nursing aching muscles and praying that Filch wouldn't give us a repeat the next day.

The rest of our first two months was fairly uneventful. I managed to stay out of any more detentions – Mum would have killed me otherwise – while Dan only lost us twenty more house points with Snape, a definite improvement. It had become a kind of tradition for me, Nymphadora, Eric and Dylan to meet in the library every Friday evening, which got us thrown out a few more times. Nymphadora was insanely clumsy. I privately thought that this would destroy her dream of becoming an Auror. On Halloween dinner was served later than usual, so the enchanted ceiling was black and spotted with stars. Enormous pumpkins grown by the half giant gamekeeper Hagrid were carved out and floated along the table, lit from the inside with magical flames. All the other lights had been put out, bathing the hall in an eerie glow. The pumpkin juice had been replaced with bowls of rather dubious looking punch, and toffee apples were impaled with sticks and stacked in between the enormous pumpkin pies. Dumbledore was apparently in a particularly good mood, as after all the food was gone he sang the school song with us, rather enthusiastically. The rest of the staff looked like they would rather be anywhere else as he waved his wand, causing a ribbon to shoot out of the end and display the lyrics for us.  
_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
__Whether we be old and bald,  
__Or young with scabby knees,  
__Our heads could do with filling,  
__With some interesting stuff,  
__For now they're bare and full of air,  
__Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
__So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot!"_

Half of the Slytherins made no effort to sing, and a lot of the older students looked fairly embarressed at Dumbledore's excitable conducting.

Back at the Gryffindor Tower, a few sixth years had decided that we needed a Halloween and start of Quidditch season party in the common room. It was already in full swing when we got there, food sneaked up from the kitchens spread across tables along one wall and loud music playing. Most of the prefects were joining in, except the one who had woken us up the first morning, who looked ready to explode. Me and Eric nearly fell over laughing when we saw him, clutching the arms of his chair and scowling at everyone who looked like they might be in danger of enjoying themselves. Noa, who had scarily accurate aim, threw a sweet at her brother's head from the other side of the room. Jared threw something back and missed, which started a bit of a food fight (mostly among the younger years). At around two in the morning, this was apparently the last straw for the Prefect, who stood up, shaking with rage, and screamed at us.  
"Everyone in their dorms RIGHT NOW, or I swear I will go and get Professor McGonagall!" We all shuffled off to our dorms sheepishly, except for a few seventh years who could probably get away with it. Personally I wasn't willing to risk the wrath of what our dorm had named Snape Junior.


	4. We Wish You A Merry Christmas

Title: The Hopeless and the Highborn

Chapter Four: We Wish You A Merry Christmas

Time at Hogwarts certainly seemed to blur. Surely it was only yesterday that we were at the Halloween feast? But now I was sitting on my bed, watching Jared, Alex and Eric pack. They were due to leave for Christmas in just under an hour, but despite my promises to Ron I was staying here with Bill. Noa stuck her head in through the door.  
"Jared! You should have been packed yesterday you useless – oh give me that." She snapped as he struggled to fold his robes. After the clothes had been forced into his overflowing trunk she collapsed on the bed next to me, the only spot of calm in the room.

"Don't worry so much, it'll only take five minutes." Jared muttered, tossing things in the general direction of his trunk. It was shocking how far things travelled in a few months.

"Why do I have to go? It's so unfair." Noa complained. Her parents were making them go home for the holidays, and as Dan was staying here she would be stuck with her brother for two weeks.  
I walked down to the Entrance Hall with them. Most of the school was leaving, so it was packed with people dragging heavy cases and balancing pet cages. A third year girl dived in front of me, landing on her face as a smug looking cat wandered further away. Filch finally got the front doors open and a stream of people headed out, leaving the Entrance Hall suddenly quiet. I drifted up to the library, at a loss for what to do. Dan had returned to bed after being woken up 'early' by the packing panic, and nearly our entire year had gone home. I eventually found Bill, who claimed he was starting his holiday homework but appeared to be doodling on a scrap of parchment, and pleaded with him until he agreed to a game of wizard's chess.  
I spent the remainder of the holidays with either Bill (who's friends had also left) or Dan, who was inexplicably terrified of my brother. Christmas Eve gave Dan the early present of detention with Professor Snape.

"I didn't even bloody do anything!" He cursed, shredding paper and letting it fall to the floor like confetti.

"Why have you got a detention then?" Bill asked with a mouthful of chocolate. Dan's anger at Snape was so great he didn't even realise that it was Bill he was talking to.

"Well this flipping fourth year Slytherin came up to me and starting having a go at me for being down in the dungeons, even though I was supposed to take something to Snape for McGonagall. So I ignored him, and he pulled his wand on me, hexed me with something." He was talking animatedly, waving his hands around. A few curious third years were watching and giggling. Dan had become quite popular for his Slytherin hate. "Naturally, I got my wand out as well."

"Naturally." Bill muttered, mouth twitching as he tried not to laugh.

"Yeah, well, before I could even do anything Snape comes out and sees me with my wand, and of course he doesn't even consider that I've been hexed. Gave me an extra long detention, on Christmas Eve! Bloody Scrooge. At least Madam Pomfrey fixed me up, two seconds flat." By this point me and Bill had given up on containing the laughter.

"What's so funny?" Dan asked us, suspicious.

"Nothing, nothing... Only, you sound exactly like Percy when something doesn't go his way." We cracked up again, remembering last Christmas when the twins had stolen his dinner and flicked peas at him whenever he turned away.

My first Christmas away from home was quiet. We went down for the lunchtime feast in the Great Hall and found a single long table with all the staff (including the ones that usually skipped meals) and remaining students sat around it. Me and Dan found a spot between a seventh year Hufflepuff girl and Professor Flitwick and piled whatever we found onto our plates. Despite the fact that there was at least fifty people, there was still less noise than in the Burrow at Christmas. Of course Ron and Ginny liked to ball up wrapping paper and throw it at the gnomes, causing Mum to go mad and scream at them, which didn't really help the general din created by our family. I found myself wishing I had gone home to see them again. I ought to be too old for homesickness now, but it had been over three months since I'd seen any family except Bill. Someone nudged my leg with their foot and I glanced up to see Bill opposite me.  
"Look on the bright side. No Great Aunt Muriel this year." He looked sympathetic, as though he had known what I was thinking about. He winked at me and flicked a pea. Unfortunately for Bill it hit Professor Flitwick on the nose. We immediately immersed ourselves in the food, trying to look innocent and not laugh at the baffled expression on the small professor's face. Before the desserts appeared Dumbledore called for our attention, and organised us so that we were all pulling the crackers of the people next to us. Professor Snape's face left no doubt to the fact that he was imagining it exploding in the face of a small and terrified looking Ravenclaw holding the other end, and Professor Trelawney, resident batty Seer, was eyeing hers as though it might show her the future in a rather painful way. We tugged until the crackers split with loud bangs and clouds of multicoloured sparkling smoke. It floated up to the ceiling, where it hovered and combined to that shade of brown you get when you keep mixing colours. It didn't seem very likely to go any time soon. I had a white maids cap, while Dan was wearing a bright orange wizards hat. Bill claimed the most horrible hat, which was a very pink and flowery shower cap. A few goldfish encased in bubbles of water had fallen out of my cracker, and across the room other creatures were making themselves known.

"It is an omen!" Trelawney shrieked, pointing at some bats flapping around in between the candles. "They predict long and miserable lives for all of you!" The way she drew out the word 'miserable' made it sound like she took pleasure in the fact. McGonagall pursed her lips and stood up.  
"I think you've had a bit too much sherry Sybil. Come along now." We watched her lead Trelawney from the room, then turned our attention to the far more interesting desserts. Along the middle of the table were the three most enormous Christmas puddings I'd ever seen. A wave of Dumbledore's wand and the candles dimmed as the puddings were set on fire. When the flames died down enchanted spoons served it, and we were 'treated' to a performance by the Hogwarts suits of armour.

"My ears!" I moaned, dropping my spoon in favour of covering said body parts.  
"What is that even supposed to be?" Bill asked, looking horrified.

"I _think_ they're butchering We Wish You A Merry Christmas..." Dan was the only person trying to listen. "On second thoughts, maybe not." He added as the end suit started singing Peeves' version, which involved a large number of obscenities. Most of the table had abandoned pudding and were doing their best to block out the sound. Even the teachers had tortured expressions. The exception was Dumbledore, who was sat at the head of the table, smiling and humming merrily.  
"What is _wrong_ with him?" Bill muttered. "Is he deaf or something?" By this point Dan's overexposure to the noise had started getting to him, and he was banging his head on the table. Finally they finished and we were allowed to leave. Everyone sprinted for the exits before Dumbledore could suggest a second song. Dan went outside with some other first years, and I went with Bill for a game of Wizards Chess. This was interrupted about an hour later by a snowball slamming into the window. This was followed by a second and a third, then a small blizzard of snowballs. This was either a threat or a request, but either way we pulled coats, scarves, hats and gloves on over our knitted Weasley jumpers and headed outside.

It was chaos. Glorious snowy anarchy. What had been a smooth white blanket of snow, sometimes reaching three foot in depth, was now home to some enormous snowmen and nearly everyone that had remained for the holidays. Clearly the snowmen building had been abandoned for warfare, as clumps of snow flew everywhere – some magically, some thrown by hand. I launched myself into the fight, scooping up handfuls of cold snow and compacting it. Years of playing at home had given me plenty of practice at this. Within minutes I had been hit over ten times, mostly by Bill.

An hour later we staggered up to our dorms, soaking wet and exhausted. I showered and collapsed on my bed, too tired to move.  
"You do realise, we have to get up and go to dinner in five minutes?" Dan asked from his position, sprawled across his own bed. I groaned. The thought of moving was not appealing right now. I'd forgotten how brutal snowball fights could get. When you had magic on your side, a lot of bruising tended to appear.

"Are you sure we have to?" I asked, twitching my toes in an attempt to return them to a normal colour.

"Yes. I'm starving. And we didn't really get pudding earlier." I lifted my head to glare at him and then fell back again.  
"No." I folded my arms like a sulking child.  
"Suit yourself." Dan pulled himself up using the bed, sneezing violently. He made it halfway across the room before returning. "Okay... Maybe we can skip dinner."


	5. Easter Greetings

Title: The Hopeless and the Highborn  
Chapter Five: Easter Greetings

After the busy Halloween and extravagant Christmas celebrations, Easter was a rather laid back affair. I spent most of my time trying to wade through the piles of homework we'd been set in anticipation of our first year exams.

"We're first years! What's going to happen if we fail these exams, really?" Dan was lying on his bed, flicking screwed up pieces of parchment around the dorm. None of us were sure if he was talking to us or the ceiling, as he continued without waiting for a response. "Nothing, that's what. No one, _no one_, cares if you get a T in your first History of Magic exam. Eric, quit panicking."

Eric raised the textbook above his head threateningly.

"People are saying that if you fail, you don't come back! If all you're going to do is whine about revising, then go join Myrtle in her bathroom."

I was starting to think that Jared might be on to something. He was sat in the windowsill with balled up candlewax in his ears to block out all the noise while he practiced incantations.

"You don't get kicked out. Bill actually did get a troll in History of Magic – although Binns might have just gotten him mixed up with Ben, he does that a lot," I told them. Before the discussion could continue there was a loud _thump_ and Jared fell off of the windowsill with an undignified squawking noise, clutching at the Standard Book of Spells.

"Oh Errol." I buried my face in my hands briefly, and then went to pick him off of the windowsill. "We told Mum not to send Easter eggs with him. His navigation's awful, he brought Aunty Muriel's birthday card to Charlie last year. And he flies into windows all the time."

It turned out that it wasn't even our Easter eggs. It was a note from Mum saying that they would be a few days late ("Does she know Easter isn't for a week?" Bill pointed out), and a picture Ron had drawn. Alex thought it was hilarious when I pinned it up next to my bed. I know you couldn't really tell that the pink blobs were us (although according to Noa, who tended to drop by our dorm in the evenings, the orange heads helped), but it was enough to make me really wish I'd gone home for Christmas.

After the first few days everyone pretty much forgot about the revision – except maybe Dylan, but Tonks liked to tell people that he'd started before Christmas. The British weather finally realised that it is in fact spring, not monsoon season, and the sunshine tempted the entire school outside.

The highlight of the holidays was the eggs, when they arrived on Saturday. Mum had sent Bill and I two foot tall eggs, which revealed a further four eggs nested inside one another when you broke the inch thick shell. The innermost egg was still around a foot high, and bursting with homemade sweets and cakes. I had no clue how Errol had carried them, but they appeared in our dorms after breakfast. They were far larger than the ones we usually received at home – clearly, Mum missed us.

Miraculously, none of us were sick – and I say miraculously, because we'd all eaten half our weight in chocolate. I never wanted to look at another Easter egg again though.

The second week flew by without us even noticing. We were lying under a tree, most of us half asleep, when Dylan announced

"It's two days until term starts."

This was the start of a full scale panic, as we all rushed back to the dorms. Textbooks were retrieved from bags, cupboards – and strangely, the bathroom – and we all reconvened in the library. The only sound was the scratching of quills, reassuring us that the entire year had also procrastinated doing all their homework.

At least, that was the only sound until Tonks' precariously balanced tower of books collapsed, taking Dylan's with it. The rest of the library glanced up, saw Tonks, rolled their eyes, and returned to their work.

"Sorry!" she whispered.

Almost as if by magic – and I suppose Dylan did cast some charms to remove hand cramps – all the urgent homework was done by Monday morning. We trooped into class, heads down, looking as if we'd never had a break.

"As I'm sure all of you are aware, your first year exams are approaching rapidly. Your Transfiguration exam is one of the first, but since you've been revising so hard…" McGonagall stared down at us sternly, fully aware that none of us had so much as looked at a textbook until this weekend.

"If you fail this exam you can drop all thoughts of second year, and with it, hopes for a _worthwhile_ career. You will be expected to redo everything if you receive a grade lower than acceptable. So I expect to see an empty class next year, with the state of this group." Snape didn't beat around the bush with his announcement. "The Potions exam will take place in small groups, so check your times on the board outside the classroom. If you are not present, you will fail. The doors will be locked as soon as the exam begins, so if you are late, you will fail. You may not change your time. Illness is no excuse."

"Good afternoon class! Your Herbology exam is the last exam, so you'll have plenty of time to revise. Don't panic about it now, just get the work done and put in the effort. Now, who can tell me the effects of moonlight on these plants?" Professor Sprout smiled at us cheerfully, but saying 'don't panic' was a fool proof way of making us panic.

The worst news by far however, came during our weekly flying lesson.

"Now class, this will be your last official flying lesson during your time at Hogwarts." Madam Hooch informed us, to a mixture of groans and sounds of relief. "The class will be replaced with supervised revision hours in the library, ready for your first year exams."

An air of worry set in over the first years, much to the amusement of the older pupils. Every evening we joined the OWL and NEWT students in the library. It felt like for every fact or charm or wand movement I learnt, another would seep out of my ears. I didn't know a thing about the invention of cauldrons, self-stirring or otherwise.

"I'm going to fail!" Dylan wailed, slamming his Potions text book shut. I gave him a disbelieving look as Tonks snorted. Eric was engrossed in his charms, but Noa and Ellen had to desperately try and hide their laughter.

"You'll be fine, Mr Ravenclaw bloody know it all," Tonks grumbled. "I, however, will not be, unless you explain this." She shoved her book towards him, stabbing the page with her finger.

As it turned out, the exams weren't that bad. Although that might have just been because we panicked and revised more than was really necessary for first year exams.

We were half an hour early to Potions, where Snape did his best to distract us from the confusing Forgetfulness potion we were trying to brew by sweeping around the classroom, robes swishing. ("But imagine the irony," Noa commented as we left, "if you forgot how to brew a Forgetfulness potion.").

Professor McGonagall had us turning mice into teapots. Mine had one tiny patch of fur under its handle, but you could barely see it – some people's had noses, so I thought that was quite good. Charms involved making a melon dance across the desk, and a very simple colour change of a sheet of paper. Dan's went green instead of blue, but Professor Flitwick didn't seem to mind too much.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was our first written exam, which was harder, and also more nerve wracking. We sat at the exam desks in the Great Hall, and answered forty questions that ranged from easy multiple choice ("What is the correct incantation for the defensive charm pictured?") to long answer questions ("Explain, in no less than two paragraphs, which of these jinxes is most damaging in a long duel and why.").

Astronomy took place at midnight, in the freezing cold at the top of the tower. Professor Sinistra had brought up mugs of hot chocolate for afterwards though, which almost made cataloguing a small section of the night sky worth it. The History of Magic paper was probably a disaster, but the only person who would complain about that was Mum. She'd probably say Binns mixed me up with someone else if I didn't pass, so I wasn't too concerned.

We finished with Herbology, which was the simple pruning and weeding of a Shrivelfig. Someone swore that theirs had bitten them, which was slightly ridiculous, as it didn't have teeth.

I had barely had time to talk to anyone all week, so in celebration we grabbed some food from the Hufflepuff table and went outside to eat dinner.

"Do you think I'll lose points for ballroom dancing instead of tap?" I asked, worried. My melon had twirled in elegant circles with an imaginary partner.

"At least yours didn't explode." Eric pointed out miserably. The entire classroom had been covered in chunks of red and green fruit.

"Nothing will reach the state of my History of Magic exam." Every time I had looked over, Tonks had been staring out of the window, idly doodling on her parchment.

"You know, there's this thing called writing down the answers – you should try it, it'll do wonders for your score."

"Yes, thank you for that unnecessary bit of sarcasm Alex."

"Binns is useless, maybe if we had a competent teacher we'd have half a chance." Dylan spoke up.

"Competent? How about living?"

Dylan instantly spoke up about how "the dead are equally intelligent", and Tonks hastily backpedalled.

"I was just saying, you can't expect his memory to be spectacular after a few hundred years. He called you George the other week!"

"He called me Molly," I put in, sighing.

"Well, you do need a haircut."

I jumped a mile and scowled at Noa. She tugged lightly on my hair.

"Don't look at me like that, you can put it in a ponytail," she continued, collapsing onto the grass next to Jared and Dan.

"I can't believe we still have to go to lessons until the end of term," Ellen flopped down, along with the rest of their dorm. "That's seven whole weeks away!"

"We do have a half term next week," Eric began.

"And right now, you have your exam results," McGonagall inserted into the conversation smoothly, passing brown envelopes from the stack floating behind her. "Miss Tonks, Mr Erevu, you will have to see your heads of house for yours."

Dylan had left to find Professor Flitwick, but Tonks stayed to watch us open ours.

_Charlie Weasley_

_First Year_

_Gryffindor_

The front of the envelope read in McGonagall's neat handwriting.

_Astronomy - A_

_Charms - E_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts - E_

_Herbology - O_

_History of Magic - P_

_Potions - E_

_Transfiguration – E_

Nothing unexpected – after all, my Astronomy chart had looked like one of Ron's join the dots pictures. I went to return it to the envelope, but a second piece of paper fell out.

_Dear Mr. Weasley,_

_Due to Madam Hooch's glowing report on your flying lessons this year, you are recommended to try out for the house team next year, if it is within your interests. Try outs will be within the first few weeks of school._

_Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House_

By now everyone was staring at me curiously.

"What does it say Charlie?" Eric looked a bit concerned. "You're not being thrown out, are you?"

"Of course not!" I was indignant for a moment. "They… They want me to try out for the house Quidditch team next year."

Jared snorted, and turned back to comparing his results with Noa's.

"That's all? We thought it was something surprising, going by your face."

"What do you mean, surprising? This _is _surprising," I told them. Noa gave me a strange look.

"Charlie, you can outfly the entire class on those awful school brooms. This is the least shocking thing to happen all year – and that's considering the fact that Dan did indeed get a troll in History of Magic."

"OI! You lying little…"

Noa leapt to her feet as Dan dived.

"I'll have you know, I got a P!"

"I've never heard someone sound proud of that before," Alex observed.

A/N: This hasn't been updated for a long time (sorry!), but hopefully there will be regular (possibly twice a week) updates for a bit now, because I'm trying to write 50K of this in August


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